Black Poetry : Modo-Yesto-Futuro

thespokesman

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Aug 5, 2003
308
1
Mo. City Tx/ Houston
Occupation
Designer, student
hello everyone
i was fighting a virus plus i had no word processor till now
here is my latest






Modo-Yesto-Futuro

Modern day.
Yesterday’s mind
Heres mine

Here’s my eggs, here’s a little Crisco to brisk though
A lover of the art, the composition of flow
They said the mind is a terrible thing to waste
I think a corrupted mind is a terrible thing to taste

Yesterday I stumbled, lost my orange juice, my concentrate
The cons of the center of my character traits deflate
Like an old junkyard, junk is stored in my brain like rusted metal
Can’t pop the lock off my metaphorical popcorn kettle

Struggling to wrinkle, like my cerebrum is smooth
Nasal passages blocked, ear filled with the waxers groove
The mind is a muscle and muscles strain and play possum
The envo-atmos-earth you fear precipitates acid rain to prevo yo blossom

Shakespeare won’t thy let me shroud thou cloths on me ear
Or better yet let me shake the spear dangling hear
Who art thou the villain, whomever it be stand forth
Forging a valley, shoot quails in vallies to destroy my fort

That was a street lesson, free session on my mental progression
Now I will break it down and take time to answer questions….
 

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